Substance

30 June 2019 – 3^rd Sunday of Pentecost

Micah 6:1-8; Matthew 5:1-16

What is the substance of faith?  Believing something?  Nah.  It needs to go deeper than that.  It is written in The Letter to the Hebrews, “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen” (11:1).  So more than simply believing something, there must be such a level of trust that we are willing to step into what we believe. 

Hope is willing to take a risk only when there is substance to the “conviction of things not seen”.  And although this is all written in the Scriptures for us to know, it becomes real only when we choose to live into the Promises.

The notion of individualized salvation as the “end” of a journey of discovery rather than as the “means” to even greater discoveries has put hope itself in the dust bin of theology.  As long as we can have some reasonable notion of going to heaven when we’re dead rather than experiencing heaven as we live, the rest is just dead weight.  The very false, yet very popular, idea of not having to do anything. 

This reduces the substance of faith to a mere belief which can change as the wind blows.  It is why so many feel perfectly justified in being disconnected from the fellowship of the Church, disconnected from ongoing religious instruction, disconnected from the heritage and the traditions of the Church, disconnected from common decency which is the essence of the Holy Law. 

There is no substance in that narrow way of thinking because Jesus didn’t teach exclusively about “going to heaven” as much as He taught about the reality of the Kingdom which can be experienced in Him.  Going back to Moses’ instruction to the Israelites in Deuteronomy, Moses emphasized Israel’s need and charge to continually tell the Story and to teach it faithfully to the next generation. 

Israel’s gravest danger, which Moses warned them about repeatedly, was in becoming completely disconnected from their past.  The substance of their being as a community, as a nation, as a “holy people” got lost.  And when that was lost, all was lost.  The substance of their being was lost.  They no longer had any sense of their being as a people of The Lord, of the Covenant.

I think the same may be said of the Church today

Someone once said we can teach our children about religion; but for faith to be understood by our young ones, it must be on full display.  That is, it must be shown and demonstrated.  It is what The Lord revealed to the prophet, and it is what Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount is entirely about. 

Even as it goes to religious practices, Jesus had this to say to the scribes and the Pharisees: “You tithe … but have neglected the weightier (not more important but, rather, substance) matters of the Law: justice and mercy and faith.  It is these you ought to have practiced without neglecting the others” (Matthew 23:23).

This is why faith itself cannot be reduced to a mere feeling or a vague belief in something which lacks demonstration.  Faith must be stepped into; this is, in fact, the essence of “assurance” (as the Israelites afraid of entering into the Promised Land and suffering the consequences of their fears).  We step in because we are unafraid.  So the genuine substance of faith must be an abiding principle that is as much about today as it is about eternity. 

We cannot teach our children about eternity (this concept being far beyond the human capacity to comprehend), but we can teach them how to navigate today while trusting fully in our Shepherd based on what He has done in the past for His people who obeyed Him.  This is why the study of the First Testament is so important to us.  The lessons from then are entirely about the substance of now. 

The Beatitudes are the “weightier matters of the Holy Law” (justice, mercy, and faith) that do not displace the religious practices necessary to develop and strengthen our relationship with our Holy Father and with one another.  Beginning with the needed assurance for those who are “poor in spirit” (lacking any sense of hope) and wrapping up with letting others “see your good works and bring glory to your Father in heaven”, what is lacking in so many is a demonstrable faith.

We are often “poor in spirit” because we have never really invested ourselves in the assurances of our Lord; and because we are not fully invested, there is no “light” for others to see because there are no “good works” that demonstrate what faith in our God looks like.  Others – especially including our children and grandchildren - are unwilling to step out in faith because the Church which proclaims its allegiance to this Great Shepherd is, by and large, unwilling to risk … well, anything.  Certainly not social standing.

With the Independence Day holiday only a few days away, there is a lot of talk about freedom; but I cannot help but to wonder if we really understand what it means to be truly free.  Too often, judging on the context in which the word is so casually tossed about, freedom typically seems to mean freedom from doing whatever it is we don’t feel like doing – OR – the freedom to do as we please regardless of how it may adversely affect others. 

Or in the case of a journalist who was so viciously attacked in Portland OR a day or two ago by the so-called ANTIFA (anti-fascist) crowd, freedom for this crowd seems to mean freedom to attack and brutalize any who do not agree with them.  In other words, as long as they are free to protest fascism by the hands of “others”, they are equally free to deny freedom to others; the freedom to walk the streets unafraid, the freedom to report, the freedom to do and to be according to our Divine Gifts.

But this is the ironic twist; freedom without the experience of living into the concept is only a concept.  Much like faith itself which is reduced only to a vague belief in something which has yet to be, unless we experience it, unless we move and step into it, we will never know of the assurances of all Jesus taught in the Sermon on the Mount, particularly the Beatitudes.

How can we be the “salt of the earth” or “the light of the world” if our faith is exclusively personal and never communal?  The short answer is it cannot be.  It is just as Jesus pointed out; “No one, after lighting a lamp, puts it under the bushel basket but on a lampstand for all to see”.  And in the context of the Beatitudes and the Sermon on the Mount as a whole, our Teacher is not talking about us merely talking out loud about it.  Jesus is talking about demonstration.

The substance of faith itself is, indeed, freedom; freedom from the shackles of our doubts and our fears, freedom from the bonds of a secular culture that seeks popularity by blindly following the “blind guides” into the abyss of darkness, the freedom to do good where good is needed most. 

Freedom is not at all about shouting from a distance to “them” (whomever “them” is) and telling “them” they need to do more for those who live in the margins of society; it is entirely about being with those who live in the margins of society, the “poor in spirit”, those who “mourn”, those who “hunger and thirst for righteousness”. 

Freedom is entirely about being free and having the will to put everything at risk for the sake of being a “peacemaker”.  It is the substance of our faith.  It is the very Face of God.  Amen.

When a Promise is a Lie

There was a time when I would at least try to listen to an opposing viewpoint.  It has been my experience that a willingness to listen is much more preferable to being antagonistic.  Although I cannot say my mind was ever changed by being shouted at or called a "deplorable", in many instances it can be said my opposition was affirmed by whatever arguments were brought forth.

This election season has become a joke.  I cannot bring myself to listen to these many ridiculous “promises” and the pretend-indignation expressed by the (at last count) twenty-two Democrat candidates who seem more certain the presidency is their destiny than they are aware they have jobs they are currently neglecting.  They also seem pretty sure of what they say and all they are promising – until thinking people vet these “promises” against a president’s constitutional and thus, legal capacity to actually carry them out.

It is a common thing for presidential candidates to promise the moon, but it has been rare (maybe even non-existent) for these promises to be measured by voters against the constitutional scope of presidential power and authority.

What is most disturbing in this field of Democrat candidates is the large number of those who currently hold an elected office  and yet display a profound ignorance of how the federal system of checks and balances really works.

Yet one cannot help but to wonder if it is ignorance on their part (most are educated lawyers) – or deliberate attempts to manipulate moods based on the presupposed ignorance of those who support them.  And by “ignorant”, I mean “uninformed” and, consequently, gullible.

“I will cut taxes”.  “I will raise taxes”.  “I will repeal this”.  “I will repeal that”.  And the list goes on and on.  By their expressions – and clear disdain for all things Trump – they do not seem to grasp (or they hope no one notices) that the president can only act within existing law.  I’ll grant that many presidents have danced on the edge of existing law with executive orders but, more often than not, what we get from the Congress whenever a president acts independently is a lot of “wailing and gnashing of teeth”.  There is no substantial legal blow-back, however, because the president is often determined to have acted within existing legal boundaries.

Worse even than this deliberate attempt to manipulate ignorant voters are the voters themselves who have come to not only expect this behavior from educated adults; we have all but embraced it.  We elect – and reelect – these persons over and again, affirming to them that this is apparently what the voters want and expect.  Though nothing changes, we believe their promises that things will certainly change if they are elected/reelected.

The Democrats are doing exactly this by accusing the current president of all sorts of mischief.  Yet the promises this current field are throwing out there for our consideration are staggering, exhausting to keep up with, and remarkably expensive.  There is also one element of each of these promises these contenders fail to mention: to accomplish any of these will require the cooperation of the Congress.  The president alone cannot deliver on any of these, and it is highly unlikely such outrageous promises will come to pass.

These candidates are either blind and ignorant themselves, or they are hoping voters are.  There is no way these candidates can possibly believe such astounding promises can ever come to fruition under our current system of government, a constitutional republic (not a democracy) shaped and bound by the US Constitution – not subject to a fickle and simple majority of demands or desires.

If these candidates know this – and giving them all the benefit of the doubt that they cannot help but to know this – that leaves us with this simple premise: those who are gullible enough to fall for all these “promises” are being sold a bill of goods.  They are being lied to.  We are being lied to.  It is one thing to cast a vision; it is another thing altogether to make impossible promises.

We are better than this, and we have every right not to be treated as mindless minions of an overbearing government.  The White House – indeed the nation – needs a chief executive officer and commander-in-chief.  The Pied Piper is a fable.  It is best to be left as such.

The Real Deal - 2nd Sunday of Pentecost 2019

23 June 2019 

2 Timothy 2:22-26; Luke 8:26-39

I have never been one for believing in the literal possession of one’s soul by a demonic force, at least not like it has been portrayed in movies like “The Exorcist”.  I suppose the reason for my cynicism is much like my doubts about “Bigfoot” – I haven’t seen either with my own eyes.  I’ve heard stories and I’ve watched TV documentaries, but I’ve had no personal experiences. 

Yet the Scriptures and the witness of the early Church Fathers seem clear – about demons, not Bigfoot.

I remember as a child listening to a priest talk about the occult.  He was most concerned with the “Ouija Board” game which, in his words and according to Catholic doctrine, is no “game” at all.  Dealing with the occult, summoning spirits and demons, and holding séances all make for scary Halloween fun, but all are very dangerous business not only because our Holy Father prohibits such activity, our Shepherd also shows us these demons and unclean spirits are very real.  And very dangerous.

By the Word of The Lord, then, we are compelled to look more closely, heed Jesus’ experiences with these demons, and stop pretending everything in Jesus is all fuzzy puppies, cuddly kittens, and feel-good theology with rah-rah sermons of “I’m ok and you’re ok, so we’re all ok”. 

The hard truth is coming to faith is not simply a moment of emotional weakness; faith is forged in fire by trial, temptations, and even doubts in coming to terms with the difference between good and evil.  The closer we draw to Messiah, the more fervent and pitched will the real battle become – because what we can clearly see by the Scriptures is these demons, these unclean spirits cannot abide by the Presence of The Lord and will fight back!

Recall the story written in Acts 19.  Some sons of the Jewish high priest were attempting to cast out demons in the name of “the Jesus whom Paul proclaims” (Acts 19:13); calling on Jesus’ Name without actually being connected to Jesus.  But “the evil spirit said to them in reply, ‘Jesus I know, and Paul I know; but who are you?” (vs 15).  We are then told this evil spirit “mastered them all, and so overpowered them that they fled out of the house naked and wounded” (vs 16).

St. James did indeed say, “Resist the devil and he will flee from you” (4:7).  However, Jesus also taught that “Whoever is not with Me is against Me” (Luke 11:23).  The meaning is simple.  There can be no ambivalence about our devotion to The Lord.  We are in Him and Him in us, or He is absent.  We can take nothing for granted; not The Lord, and certainly not evil spirits. 

I don’t think physical convulsions are the sole, or even the primary, characteristic of a demon who is trying to make himself at home with us – nor is the devil a red person who carries a pitch fork and has horns on his head.  So we kid ourselves if we think a demonic influence will manifest itself so clearly.

It is also important to remember what St. Paul wrote to the Ephesians: “Put on the whole armor of God so you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil; for our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places” (6:11-12).

This very real danger exists today as it did when St. Paul also wrote to the Corinthians: “I am afraid that as the serpent deceived Eve by its cunning, your thoughts will be led astray from a sincere and pure devotion to Christ” (2 Cor 11:3).  This concern was directed toward those who could be led astray by a false gospel that tries to “adjust” the Scriptures to the modern age.

It is not always force by which our faith and our allegiance to The Lord will be challenged; it will be, more often than not, by cunning; by deceit, by evasiveness, by subtle trickery.  It may come into our conversations as we gossip about and slander others.  It may come by a false notion that “love” justifies or excuses adultery, fornication, and other inappropriate relationships.  It may come – especially in an election season – through our support of one candidate by demonizing the opponent.

So I think what we must be consciously aware of is not necessarily the presence of the evil one but, rather, the absence of good – i.e., with Christ or against Christ.  St. Augustine believed if we are not aspiring to our higher calling in Christ (Wesley’s idea of sanctification, “going on to perfection”), we are surrendering ourselves to the absence of good.  The same can be said of the tension between love and hate.  The Scriptures do not allow an ambivalence or a middle ground; if we do not love, we hate.  Therefore, the absence of good is the presence of evil.

If this all sounds like a lot of theological double-speak, it is perhaps because we ourselves have become ambivalent about the presence of evil in the absence of good.  And the open door to the very real threat to the well-being of the Church is the ambivalence of Her members; a spiritual laziness or complacency that simply expects Jesus to do all the work, rejecting our Lord’s own warning to His disciples: “Keep watch; the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak”. 

The Lord is our comfort, a “very present help in our time of need”.  Yet we must be willing to admit and confess our need.  We must acknowledge that “good” is not subjective to the culture’s ideals.  Good is The Lord, and He has determined what is good and what is evil.  We do not get to decide for ourselves nor should we kid ourselves into believing so.

It is Jesus – the Living Word of the Living God – who has mastered the forces of evil in this life, in this world, and we must never convince ourselves we can go it alone or that the devil is a made-up story designed to frighten us.  As our Lord showed us in the wilderness, “One does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God” (Deuteronomy 8:3; Matthew 4:4).  And this in the face of the evil one himself.

The evil one is present in the absence of Christ our Lord.  We must not kid ourselves into believing the threat is not a real one.  Our homes, our children, our churches and communities are all at stake if The Lord is not there.  The devil is real, and so are his tricks.  There is no middle ground between Good and evil.  Let The Lord have His way so we can find our Way in Him.  Amen.

Faith of our Fathers - 16 June 2019

16 June 2019 – Father’s Day

Hebrews 11:8-12; Matthew 1:18-25, 2:13-15; 19-23

The connection shared by Judaism, Islam, and Christianity is Abraham who is regarded as the father of our common faith.  Imperfect though he was (at least by human standards), Abraham was the one chosen by The Lord to begin the incredible journey to redemption.  As The Lord spoke to Abraham: “I will establish My covenant between Me and you, and your offspring after you throughout their generations, for an everlasting covenant, to be God to you and to your offspring after you” (Genesis 17:7).

The father of “many” nations (Genesis 17:4) is the one through whom a perpetual covenant was established; and because of Abraham’s faithfulness, his sons received abundant blessings though only Isaac would carry the “everlasting covenant” to his own offspring (Genesis 17:19). 

According to the lineage recorded in Matthew’s Gospel, there are forty-two generations from Abraham to Jesus.  Throughout these forty-two generations are stories that make it hard to believe what The Lord was apparently willing to tolerate for the sake of the Holy Covenant, and there are many in this genealogy who would not make it to a list of ideal fathers – again, by our standards.  Yet there is one who has always stood out … not by his recorded words (there are none) but by his unwavering faithfulness: Joseph, the husband of the Blessed Virgin.

Apart from the genealogy, not much is known about Joseph.  There are plenty of assumptions and there are stories in extrabiblical literature, but the Bible itself does not give us much.  Yet for one who spoke so little, he accomplished much.  His faithfulness and his diligence to see after Mary and the Baby allow this much for us to witness: obeying the Holy Father and trusting in His guidance is the Way for fathers throughout the ages.

In Catholicism, St. Joseph is regarded as the patron saint of the Church universal, unborn children, workers, travelers, immigrants … and fathers.  By “patron saint”, some traditions see an advocate; for all traditions, we see inspiration.  In this inspiration, we come to know Joseph as a man of honor.  When Mary was pregnant, Joseph would have been well within his rights to have her dismissed in public shame to be stoned to death (the consequence of adultery).  Instead, he would choose to let her go quietly to spare her that fate.  

Before he was aware of The Lord’s Hand in this drama, he would still choose honor and respect.  So in spite of what we do not know about Joseph, we know enough not only to celebrate and honor this man; we also know how he was regarded in the eyes of The Lord: he was “a righteous man” (Matthew 1:19) – because of what he chose to do when he didn’t have to.

What else do we need to know?  When he died?  How big a role he played in Jesus’ childhood?  What sort of husband he was?  In the grand scheme, what we are told about Joseph is that one attribute we fathers and grandfathers must strive to emulate and perpetuate: he was wholly devoted to The Lord.  He obeyed without question.  When he didn’t have to, when the culture demanded something else, he treated Mary with the utmost respect and care.  He put everything at risk not only to protect the pregnant Mary but also to protect his young family.

We contemporary fathers have no problem with being protectors – especially if that protection involves guns.  It is a very he-manly role to play in being armed and prepared to take on any who would threaten the well-being of our families.  While the crazy and often dangerous world we live in may seem to make that level of preparedness necessary, however, the ideal conveyed by Joseph suggests there is one thing we fathers must learn to do first: submit to The Lord and trust fully in His guidance and protection.

I have often wondered why it was that Joseph was only spoken to in his dreams.  Some have suggested it is in a state of sleep when we are most vulnerable, but I’ve had some really strange dreams that would lead me straight to a mental health facility if I were to follow through!  Could it be that Joseph was a manly man who trusted his own instincts more than he concerned himself with what The Lord may ask of him?

There is reasonable suspicion of a pregnant wife whom he had not yet “known” so intimately, but notice the tension between what the human culture would expect of Joseph and what The Lord would require of him.  This suggests we fathers may be inclined to be more aware of a socially constructed role we must fit into rather than be led into a truly godly role that, in the end, would make us all better husbands and fathers – men worthy of the love of a godly woman and the admiration of children. 

It is an ideal this world can have no concept of not only because of the “enmity” (opposition) which exists between this world and the kingdom (James 4:4) but also because of what Jesus Himself taught: “The world cannot receive [The Spirit] because it isn’t looking for [The Spirit] and does not recognize Him” (John 14:17).

It makes me wonder: if the very Spirit of The Living God came up and physically grabbed us by the collar to get our attention, what would be our response?  A culturally conditioned and violent response?  Or a spiritually conditioned and humble one? 

That may sound a little silly to us now, but think of Joseph and his predicament.  Though he is described in the Scripture as a “righteous man”, we may also do well for ourselves to think of him as a manly man, a working man, a no-nonsense man.  Yet he was also a man more clearly aware of the Presence of God and more clearly willing to heed The Lord’s Voice over and above his own misbegotten pride.  Like his ancestor, King David, a man after The Lord’s own heart.

There is a secret to being the kind of husband and father The Lord means for us to be, but that secret is revealed only “in secret” as Jesus taught us to pray “in secret”; fervently seeking The Lord’s will not only for our lives but for the well-being of the families entrusted to our care.  And our first order of business as fathers is to lead our families, our children to our Holy Father.  Only there can be found Everlasting Life and Everlasting Love.  It is the greatest gift we can give our children.  Amen.

"One" - 7th Sunday of Easter 2019

2 June 2019

Ephesians 4:1-13; John 17:20-26

Years ago, before I even thought about becoming a preacher, there was a young man, a college student in Conway, who took exception to my viewpoint and questioned my sense of unity in the “United” Methodist Church.  The discussion went back and forth, but essentially he maintained that for unity to prevail in the UMC, I must agree with his viewpoints.  To be fair, I said the same thing …

Over time, I’ve come to know even conservative Christians don’t always agree on every single point even though we may consider ourselves “like-minded”.  The only real consensus we Christians have is Jesus, but is that enough?  I’ve shared before that believing Jesus existed and having the faith to follow Him are two entirely different things.  And that may well be the basis of Jesus’ prayer!

Who gets to define unity?  Do we even know what it means to be “one”, as in Jesus’ fervent prayer?  When St. Paul wrote to the Ephesians, he encouraged the Church to “lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace” (4:1-3).

With so much talk about schism within the United Methodist Church, there are many who believe not only is a separation imminent, it has in fact already happened – in spirit, at the very least.  That one, single “issue” has come to define the whole of the United Methodist Church to the point of distraction; and to be perfectly honest, I’m not sure who is entirely to blame.

This “side” accuses that “side” of bigotry and hatred, and that “side” accuses this “side” of faithlessness.  Our bishop has consistently encouraged and called us to pray for revival (not “a” revival as an event but for revival of the Spirit in the Church), but there is no evidence of fervent prayer or revival.  It might make one wonder if prayer works … or if the Spirit has turned His back on the UMC … or if, in our prayer, we simply expect The Lord to do a miracle with no effort on our part.

So it is not so simple to read Jesus’ prayer to the Father for the unity of the Church – because the sense of unity, of “oneness” as Jesus is to the Father is not to be understood strictly on human terms.  We have to dig a little deeper, think more clearly, and gain – or regain – a profound sense of humility in coming to know our own sense of unity may not be at all what Jesus was praying for – the kind of humility that makes us teachable, leadable; the kind of humility in which Jesus has the answers rather than ourselves.

Our understanding of Jesus’ prayer must also take into account what He had said before about His entire purpose in being on the earth: “Do not think I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace but a sword.  I have come to set a man against his father, a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; and one’s foes will be members of one’s own household” (Matthew 10:34-36). 

In a way, Jesus sounds like He has only come to stir the pot and deliberately create dissension among families and communities, but the core of what is being taught, of what is being said, is not about a deliberate effort to cause division.  Instead, it seems to be that Jesus is actually teaching us about the real way, the only way, we can avoid division.

First He instructs His disciples, as He is preparing to send them out with power to heal and authority to cast out demons (Matthew 10:1), that when they are invited into a home, “let your peace come upon that home” … but if that peace is rejected, “shake the dust from your feet as you leave that house” (Matthew 10:14). 

Even though that “home” may be unified in and of itself, there is a point at which disagreement and dissension will come: the Word which requires a much higher level of unity beyond that home, beyond that family, beyond that community.  “Whoever loves father or mother more than Me is not worthy of Me; whoever loves son or daughter more than Me is not worthy of Me; and whoever does not take up the Cross and follow Me is not worth of Me” (Matthew 10:37-38).

The unity of that home, that family, that community is entirely subjective.  Each believes what it chooses to believe, what it has been taught to believe, and each will have an influence beyond itself; but when that home, that family, that community comes into contact with another home, another family, another community that is not like-minded and does not share a common culture and background, there will be clashes, there will be division, there will be dissension because each home, each family, each community has its own subjective standard, its own rules, its own way of believing and doing and interacting.

This is not necessarily a bad thing and it does not condemn one over another; but when Christ and The Word become the standard – and that Word is rejected because of an already-established way of thinking and doing to the exclusion of others - sin becomes the standard, and division is imminent.

This reality is no less so today, certainly in the United States and perhaps especially in the United Methodist Church.  In the wake of the 2019 Special Called Session of General Conference and in preparations for the 2020 General Conference, each “side” is preparing for battle.  Each “side” is determined to win, but I wonder if either side is fully prepared for whatever “prize” may await us … because the greater sin is not found in our determination of which “side” is more right or more wrong; it is found in our denial of Jesus’ ultimate prayer for unity. 

We hear the prayer, we read the prayer, but we don’t really take it to heart precisely because we have chosen “sides” and are determined to win regardless of what it may cost us in the end.  We are unwilling to “patiently bear with one another in love” because we have not only lost all patience with one another – we have also lost all sense of humility.

Jesus’ prayer, however, stands as a Perpetual Promise to those who continually strive for unity, who continually seek The Way as we consistently seek to admit our own faults even as we admonish those whom we are willing to love as Christ has loved us – sacrificing everything for the sake of another, including those who will persecute us, mistreat us, turn on us.  Judas and the others did as much, and Jesus still did what He needed to do for ALL.

I think I’m right about certain things just as you do, but our opinions do not make us righteous.  Righteousness comes only to those who do the will of The Father; and what does The Father require of us?  “To act justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with God” (Micah 6:8). 

Let us begin here; for if we are so willing to “walk humbly with God”, He will take us where He needs us to be.  As One.  Amen.

No Greater Love - 6th Sunday of Easter 2019

26 May 2019 

1 Corinthians 6:12-20; John 15:12-17

In one scene in a movie, love is described as “biochemically no different than eating large quantities of chocolate”.  What is most telling is the context in which it was said … and by whom.  It was the character of “Satan”, and he was trying to convince someone that feelings of love are overrated. 

To a degree, I suppose there is some truth to it.  Too often we confuse love with how we happen to be feeling at any given time, and I’ll grant you there is no warmer or more comforting feeling in knowing we are loved.   In Jesus’ statement about the true measure – and value – of love, however, He is not strictly speaking about being loved or even feeling loved.  He is speaking about the ultimate expression of the greatest love there can be – our willingness to do even for those who will not – perhaps will never – appreciate it or return the favor.

Jesus certainly knew this.  As we are reminded when we celebrate Holy Communion, Jesus knew His disciples would bail on Him and He knew Judas was about to hand Him over to the authorities.  Yet He continued with the celebration of true and genuine freedom, not only celebrating the Passover by which the Israelites had been set free from the bondage of slavery but offering the means by which we may be set free from bondage to sin and death.

Yet the idea of expressions of love received AND given is often reduced to a false notion of “legalism” which seems to suggest love is precisely an emotion to be felt rather than a commitment to the New Life into which we are reborn.  Obedience to The Lord as acts of genuine love for Him, in modern theology, has been deemed unnecessary.  After all, The Lord loves us "no matter what”, right?

Freedom, like key biblical terms as “grace” and “love”, is horrifically misunderstood and misappropriated in our modern society.  Too many think of freedom as “license” to do as one pleases with no regard for how our actions may affect others.  Yet the late John Paul II said it best; “Freedom consists not in doing what we like, but in having the right to do as we should”.

This makes me think of a recent article I read (History.com) about what is arguably the very first Memorial Day commemoration.  The first national Memorial Day was in 1868 in Arlington VA, but the first record of an observance is said to have taken place in 1865 in Charleston SC following the Civil War. 

It is said there was a mass grave at a makeshift Confederate POW camp in which Union soldiers had been buried, but the freed slaves of the area who knew about it arranged to reinter these Union soldiers and give them each a proper burial.  The act was one of gratitude, mindful as these freed slaves were of what the Union had fought against.

They could have more easily walked away.  They were freed following the collapse of the Confederacy, but the gratitude they must have felt in that moment compelled them to stay, to do this thing that would honor the war dead who had given all they had to give for a principle few understood. 

But here is the point of discipleship altogether; it is not always necessary to physically die for a principle, but it is always necessary to fulfill the Royal Law: to “love one’s neighbor as oneself”, to put aside the freedom to indulge one’s own desires and, instead, give oneself over to “serve one another in love” (Galatians 5:13). 

So then perhaps we are compelled to ask ourselves if obeying Jesus’ “commandment to love one another as I have loved you” (John 15:12) can be reduced to a feeling or if there is more to fulfilling this “commandment”.  We often say we cannot help how we may be feeling at any given time and we know circumstances can change in an instant, circumstances which may surely change the way we may be feeling.

It follows, then, that Jesus is not talking about feeling a certain way.  Indeed, this portion of John’s Gospel ends with Jesus saying, “I am giving you these commands so you may love one another” (vs 17).  Not so “you might” or that “you must” but in “you may”.  Though the statement has the force and authority of “commandment”, there is something even more compelling than this.  Jesus is freeing His “servants” and calling them “friends”! 

Some have suggested that in the whole context, it may have become necessary for Jesus to release His “servants” so they could become much more than mere followers who could do no more or less than whatever Jesus might do in their presence or tell them to do; to be set free from being mere observers.  In being set free from perhaps a self-imposed bondage of blind obedience without understanding why, they would have been less than capable of truly loving one another and those whom they would soon serve. 

The same principle applies to the freed slaves in Charleston.  It may be they had been enslaved to the Confederate POW camp in Charleston and had been forced to dig the mass graves, but in their newfound freedom they chose to give each of these Union soldiers a proper burial.  There is a profound difference in being forced to do something one might otherwise not do – and being freed to do that which love compels us to do.  If there was any measure of “feeling” associated with these men and women choosing to do what they felt needed to be done, it would surely have been a feeling of deep and abiding gratitude. 

In this nation and in the Holy Church, this kind of love is in exceedingly short supply, evidenced by our apparent determination to malign and destroy any who disagree.  The Christian faith has been reduced to a simple formula by which one is either “saved” or not.  While there is real power from a justified heart which has been set free from the sins of the past, we don’t always feel it nor do we feel a need to express that genuine, God-given power in appropriate ways, ways that will glorify Him and serve others. 

As Paul expressed to the Corinthians (1 Cor 6:12-20), freedom is hard and must be handled with the greatest of care because with that freedom comes great responsibility.  We can do anything we choose to do, but we do not often consider or even care how our actions will impact others.  This freedom can never be taken for granted lest we forget we have been set free not for the sake of indulging our own desires but so we can truly, fully, freely serve those who need it most. 

There can be “No Greater Love” than this: to give of ourselves for the sake and the well-being of others.  It is not about being “tolerant”; it is about being faithful … to Him, to His Commandments, and to His Church.  In the Name of The Father, The Son, The Holy Spirit.  Amen.

A Mother's Love - 4th Sunday of Easter

Isaiah 66:13; Matthew 23:37-39

When we began recruit training (USMC), our senior drill instructor gave us a brief run-down of what we would face in the coming months.  Part of the training involved running what was known as the “John Wayne” course; crawling through the sand surrounded by simulated bombs and overhead rifle and machine gun fire reminiscent of the Marine Corp’s island-hopping campaign in the Pacific during WWII, immortalized in the John Wayne movie, “The Sands of Iwo Jima”. 

The senior drill instructor assured us there would not be no live rounds fired at or around us because the Blue Star Mothers of America had put their foot down!  I didn’t even know there was such a thing!  Recruits in the past had been seriously injured, and this group of mothers had apparently been instrumental in convincing the Corps that every reasonable precaution should be taken to protect young recruits in boot camp from unnecessary harm. 

There is nothing so binding, so yielding, and yet so fierce as a mother’s love.  Even the hardest, toughest, most salty Marine would not dare stand against or defy a mom defending her young!  And this reality could be the very reason why the Scriptures use such a metaphor to convey The Lord’s love for, and innate desire to protect, His own young!

When The Lord spoke to His people through the prophet Isaiah in assuring them they would one day be returned to their land after they had been “grounded” in exile, they heard this promise: “As a mother comforts her child, so I will comfort you; you shall be comforted in Jerusalem” (Isaiah 66:13).  It is the sort of comfort only a mother can give.

Yet Jesus also laments this same people who “kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to you”; so because of their hard-heartedness, The Lord had been unable to “gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings” … because “you were not willing” (Matthew 23:37).  It is the kind of lament only a mother can really understand.

My own father was not the greatest example of a “dad” in the strictest sense, but I know there was nothing he would withhold from me or my sister or brother if he thought it would help in any way.  Yet I also know – as I think most of us can agree – there is no reasonable, finite measure of a mother’s love for her children.  I don’t mean to diminish the fathers among us who would go to the ends of the earth for our children, but I think we can agree a mother would go beyond even the ends of the earth to protect and comfort her children.

Trinitarian theology (Father, Son, Holy Spirit) is meant to express the fullness of YHWH even though the doctrine is probably more confusing than fulfilling.  Yet it is an important doctrine to help us to understand the God who created (the Father), His eternal Word (the Son), and His enduring presence (the Holy Spirit) to teach and to guide us. 

Even in that fullness, however, there seems to be a missing component; a component that not only acknowledges but honors a mother’s love.  Roman Catholic and Orthodox theology offer to Mary, the blessed Mother, a significant part of the fullness of this doctrine in the role of the Church.  It is Mary who, despite great personal risk, heeded the call of YHWH to bring into the world the Messiah.

She is the Mother of the Word; the womb from which the Word sprang, the womb in which the Word was nurtured and protected and sustained.  In the historic understanding of the Jewish mother, she was also the one who nurtured, sustained, protected, and taught from the home so her blessed Child could grow as safely as possible into the role for which He was begotten. 

As Mary is regarded and honored as the Mother of the Holy Church, the Church can gain a better understanding of its own role in allowing the Word to be nurtured from within so that, in the fullness of time, the Word can be proclaimed outwardly.  It does the Church nor the world any good to keep the Word in the womb!  It is an important role we too often take for granted and only assume all things will simply fall into place; but without a mother’s love and assuming too much, the Church has not lived into its role with a real sense of purpose, dignity, and Truth.

Joseph had his own role as protector and provider, but this isn’t Father’s Day!  Joseph certainly provided a house, but it was surely Mary who created and sustained a home environment necessary for Jesus to become His true Self – not what she wanted Him to be but what He was begotten to become.  Yet it is, sadly, the environment of the Church which has become more a “consumer’s choice” than a genuine necessity for one to live into one’s true calling. 

There are far too many who regard the Church as no longer necessary to simply “be” a Christian, regarding “being” as we choose to “be” as much more important than “becoming” who we are created to “become”; so keeping the Church compartmentalized is akin to regarding a mother’s love as little more than a choice rather than to embrace a mother’s love as essential to the fullness of life and living. 

Yet the Church, the True Mother of the Faith, must never forget its own role in the life of the community and in the life within the congregation itself; to “be gentle, as a nursing mother tenderly cares for her own children” (1 Thessalonians 2:7).  There is a time to be firm and steadfast to be sure a child gets what the child needs, but the Mother of the Faith cannot be so rigid and unyielding as to stifle personal and spiritual growth. 

Just as we know the profound independence a child comes to know when it’s time to walk, we do all we can to protect and continue to teach – but we also know there are some lessons which must be learned independently.  Yet even when the lessons are sometimes much harder than a child can withstand, the Mother of the Faith is always there to comfort, to discipline, to guide, to teach – and to nurse a boo-boo here and there.

Here’s the thing, though.  The Church cannot fully appreciate its role as the Mother of the Faith without appreciating Mary’s role in the Life of Jesus; and Mary’s role as the Mother of the Church cannot be fully embraced without understanding the essential nature of the mother’s role in the home and the family. 

The essence of the Divine Commandment to “honor mother and father” is about much more than simply obeying them.  We learn to honor our parents by the way we live, reflecting their faith and their endurance when it would have been easier to walk away and choose our own course.  Yet the one who nurtures and sustains our faith cannot be taken for granted without us losing the essential part of who we are: children of the Living God.

Live into that role, and we truly honor a Mother’s Love.  For now, and forever.  Amen. 

Can't Get Right - 3rd Sunday of Easter 2019

5 May 2019 – 3^rd Sunday of Easter

Psalm 30; Acts 9:1-6; John 21:1-19

Peter is one of the most interesting of the New Testament characters because many of us can relate to him.  He is zealous for whatever he believes in at any given moment; and what he says, he seems to mean.  Yet this Scripture portion seems to open with Peter at perhaps one of his lowest moments.  The other Gospel accounts portray the apostles as afraid, but John’s account seems to show them all at a point of surrender in the midst of a profound loss.  It is almost as if Peter says, “I’m going fishing”, to which the others respond, “Might as well”.

Jesus had appeared to them once, but that Visit may have only further confused them.  There is nothing to indicate they were not still afraid of the fallout for having been associated with Jesus, but they still had to work.  So maybe with the idea of strength in numbers, they all went out together to get back to their lives – as if nothing had happened.

This happens for many of us.  We have those exciting, fulfilling, spiritual moments when we feel more alive than we ever have, when we come to know The Lord has touched us in an unmistakable way; the problem often is we don’t really know what to do with it.  Without further instruction, without some definitive sense of direction, without some measure of accountability, we do what we know how to do: we revert.  We go back to some sense of normal, and we get on with our lives.

It is easy for us to say that if we had been there when the Resurrected Jesus came into the room, there would be no way we could ever go back to the way things once were.  What we may be witnessing, however, is the simple reality: it is far easier to submit to impulse or habit than it is to break away from what was once normal and live as though we really have had a brush with the Eternal.

Maybe there’s a bone in the back of our heads that just “can’t get right”.  Maybe we are such creatures of habit and routine that we are incapable of thinking beyond what is normal.  Maybe we are such tortured souls that we are, more often than not, left twisting in the wind with no real sense of direction, no real sense of community purpose (unless it suits us), and no idea of whether those things even matter.

When Jesus first appeared to the women, there was not much offered except to tell everyone to gather, but John’s Gospel does not offer even that.  When Jesus appeared to them all later, they were given the Holy Spirit and were told, “If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained” (John 21:23).  However, they are not told (at least by John’s account) what to do with this new authority or what it meant for them.

There is still a sticking point in all this, especially for Peter.  Most of the disciples abandoned Jesus when things got dangerous; but by all accounts, they simply ran.  Peter tried to stick around, it seems, which put him in a position to either stand with Jesus as he said he would - or revert to his normal self and do whatever would be necessary to survive having been accused of being one of “them”. 

It is Luke’s Gospel which points out that after the rooster had crowed and Jesus had turned to look squarely at Peter, “Peter remembered the word of the Lord, how He had said to him, ‘Before the cock crows today, you will have denied Me three times’ … after which Peter “went out and wept bitterly” (Luke 22:61-62).  This seems odd, however, since it is Peter named in John’s Gospel who had drawn a sword to defend Jesus from being arrested (John 18:10).

What went wrong?  How is it that Peter was willing to risk fighting armed soldiers for Jesus’ sake but was unwilling to simply be counted among Jesus’ followers when so accused?  I think that was Peter’s natural state.  I think Peter believed he was doing the right thing by being willing to defend Jesus, violently if necessary. 

When he was called down by Jesus for having done so, he became confused.  In the end, being so uncertain about what it was he needed to do, there was nothing left but to deny that better part of himself which knew Jesus, had loved Jesus, and had professed Jesus.

It’s never that easy, though.  We “can’t get right” because we pay more attention to our impulses, our desires, our habits, our own agendas than we do to The Word.  And it will always be so as long as religion, faith, and being fully connected are less important to us than are the things we would rather do, the things we are more comfortable doing, the things we have always been taught to do.

We need to hear from Jesus.  We need The Word to heal us, to exonerate us, to forgive us for being human.  We need The Word to teach us how to rise above all that so we can be who we really are.  Apart from The Word, we can’t get right.  We can’t be who we really are; we can only be what our impulses, our habits, our routines, even our culture allows us to be.

It is more than simply being absolved, however.  Notice the cost of loving Jesus as Peter had professed: “Feed My lambs”; “Tend My sheep”; “Feed My sheep”.  It cannot be a simple “I forgive you” – not when so much is at stake.  It is never true to The Word that we are simply forgiven so we can feel less guilty about our failures.  It is never true to The Word that we are simply forgiven but not transformed.  And it is not true to The Word that forgiveness stands in perpetuity only in that single moment.

As long as we allow that single moment to speak for us but not to inform us, we can’t get right.  As long as Jesus is our “co-pilot” and not our Shepherd, we can’t get right.  As long as Jesus is an after-thought and not our forethought, we can’t get right. 

Yet we gather regularly to pray, to study, to worship, and to be fed so we can be Made Right.  We are invited to His Table to be Made Right.  We are called to confess so we can be Made Right.  So we must make this decision not once but constantly; because, like Peter, we can so easily be drawn back into our former selves and lose all sense of the One Thing that is always Right: our Lord, our Shepherd, our Savior, our very Life.

He can only be Ours if we are always His.  For now, and forever.  Amen.

Amazed - Easter Sunday 2019

21 April 2019 – Easter Sunday

Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24; Acts 10:34-43; Luke 24:1-12

It’s been a wild couple of weeks for this congregation, hasn’t it?  Worship, prayers, and Bible study attendance have not been great, and we can pretty much pick our excuses – and we do in our skewed priorities.  Some have gotten bad news from a doctor, others good.  The national and international news has been, well … it’s hard to say, but from what I can gather, the sky is apparently still falling.  We’ve celebrated, we’ve grieved, we’ve laughed, we’ve cried, we’ve hated, and we’ve loved. 

Things happen – some good, some not so good – that we cannot always explain, though Lord knows we always try to find meaning in every little thing – maybe especially in the trivial things.  The truth is, we need meaning.  We cannot seem to fathom anything random, and we won’t say it’s just “bad luck” or admit that maybe a series of bad ideas and poorly thought-out decisions came full circle.  Some struggle through each and every day while others seem to glide right through.  Fortunes have been made, and fortunes have been lost.

But that’s life, isn’t it?  These are the things we deal with every single day.  And too often we take so much for granted that we do what we do out of habit or routine.  We know the “what” of what we do, but we don’t always consider the “why”.  We just do it because it has to be done, it’s what we’ve always done, or we just want to.  I think, though, that if we really evaluated our work-a-day and reconsider the “why” of the things we do, we might be amazed at how meaningful – or meaningless – the things we do really are.

Some 2000 years later, it seems the same applies to the Resurrection.  We know the “what” – that Jesus was raised from the dead – but thinking of the “why” has long been brushed aside because the “what” has become more important – that it just happened because it was supposed to.

Of course, the “why” of the Resurrection cannot begin at the Resurrection.  There is a lot to take in that will lead us to this point and will help the “why” to make some sense.  The Resurrection cannot be relegated only to “what” lest it lose its meaning – which it may have already. 

To be sure, come funeral time for a loved one, we do think of the Resurrection – not of the Messiah but of our loved ones; and we’re not so amazed as we are grateful.  It gives us a great deal of comfort to believe our loved ones are not truly dead; and were it not for the depth of our grief, we might even find real joy.

Again, however, the Resurrection did not just happen.  We have to get there.  We cannot go directly from Christmas to Easter without taking in all that took place in Jesus’ life on this earth because death always precedes resurrection.  We have to die; but if we wish to be raised in Christ in the Resurrection, we must first learn to live for Christ in this life.  To do this, we must die to self.  Only then can the Resurrection have any real meaning.

There is a twist in this, however.  Note Peter’s speech as recorded in Acts 10.  He said, “God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and with power … He went about doing good and healing all who were oppressed by the devil, for God was with Him … they put Him to death by hanging Him on a tree …”

Who is “they” who put Him to death?  The Romans?  The religious leaders who falsely accused Him and handed Him over to the Roman authorities?  Or was it the many who hailed Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem with rejoicing – many of whom had been healed by Him - only to turn against Him a few days later?  Remember they called for His death over a known criminal (Barabbas) because of what they may have heard from the religious leaders and the crowds in general.

Over the centuries the Church had pretty consistently blamed the Jews in general for the death of our Savior without fully realizing how many actually had a hand in this travesty.  Yet as our Lord hung on the Cross, He called upon The Father to forgive them (all of them and perhaps us as well) in their ignorance.  They had no idea what they were doing, and Jesus didn’t specify who “them” was in His plea to The Father for mercy. 

Then on the third day, Peter – the only one whose active betrayal and denial is recorded for us – ran to the tomb to find only the burial clothes.  And as it is recorded by Luke, “He went home, amazed at what had happened”.

It seems to me Peter had to be included among those for whom Jesus prayed as He was dying because his denial indicated not only a profound fear for his own life but also a much deeper doubt about all Jesus had taught them.  How else to explain how easily Peter turned, this same Peter who had sworn to Jesus he would stand with Him even if it cost him his own life?

So in our perpetual hope that is the Resurrection – the only real hope we can have in this life – we hear the consistent cry of our Shepherd who was, and still is, determined to show us The Way; “forgive them, Father”.  For it is in our mercy toward others where we will find mercy for ourselves.  In this Mercy is the “why” of the Resurrection found, and it is in the depth of this Mercy where we will be utterly amazed.

The “why” of the Resurrection is hope and mercy in spite of our often willful ignorance.  We look to the Resurrection not merely because it happened but “why” it happened.  It is the depth of The Father’s love for His people; that despite the hatred of a world determined to eliminate all reference to Him and His glory, the Blessed and Eternal Father will raise up His own.  That’s you … and perhaps even me.

As the late John Paul II once proclaimed, “We are Easter people, and halleluiah is our song!”  So we proclaim the mystery of our faith: Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again. 

Glory to The Father, The Son, The Holy Spirit.  Amen.